


(un)complicated

by ShirosRedKnight (SweetFanfics)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (And then it isn't!), (sort of), Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends With Benefits, Hand Job, Implied Sexual Content, Love Confessions, M/M, Marriage of Convenience, Morning After, Sick Shiro, Smut, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 17:24:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11318139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetFanfics/pseuds/ShirosRedKnight
Summary: It was supposed to have been simple. Or as simple as it could get after you marry your best friend for the sake of getting a financial aid from their college and FAFSA. It wasn't supposed to get complicated.





	(un)complicated

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [this popular tumblr post](https://shirosredknight.tumblr.com/post/162314387665/marzipanandminutiae-a-imagine-your-otp-b-dear) where these two guys talked about getting fake married for the sake of getting a college scholarship and FAFSA aid. I've wanted to write something for this for ages and then finally inspiration struck lol

It was supposed to have been simple. Or as simple as it could get after you marry your best friend for the sake of getting a financial aid from their college and FAFSA.

 

The point is Keith never expected things to get this complicated. Not even in his wildest dreams or far-reaching imagination had he imagined himself to be in the pickle he found himself in presently.

 

He cracks two eggs into a bowl and whips them furiously, channeling some of his frustration out into the frothing eggs in the vain hopes that this will help calm him down.

 

It doesn’t.

 

His mind is still stuck at 7:13 PM yesterday when a feverish and ill Shiro had taken hold of his hand, pressed it against his forehead, and brokenly told Keith that he loved him. At the time, Keith hadn’t gotten much of a chance to process what Shiro had said or the implications of it because his shock had been overpowered by concern. The painful way Shiro’s breath had kept hitching as he’d tried to tell Keith how much he loved him was a clear indicator that he’d been struggling to hold himself together and it had pulled Keith into bed immediately.

 

He’d held Shiro against him, reassuring him over and over again that he wasn’t going anywhere until his trembling has subsided. Keith had continued his gentle ministrations well until Shiro had fallen asleep. That was when he'd used the washcloth resting on the night table to wipe Shiro's face clean. Keith had pressed his lips to Shiro's brow and attempted to quell the ache in his hurt. If there was one thing he  _couldn't_ stand, it was seeing Shiro hurt. 

 

Next thing he remembered, he’d woken up the next morning. He'd rolled over in their bed, nuzzling into the warm skin against his mouth. It had taken him a couple of minutes to remember that Shiro was sick and that he’d confessed his feelings to Keith. That had yanked him awake faster than any alarm clock in the world. Shiro thankfully didn't stir at the sudden motion. He didn't even twitch when Keith stealthily slipped out of bed. 

 

His mind has been spinning with memories since then. From the first day when they’d decided to get fake married to the first visit by the FAFSA rep, Jenny when they’d accidentally kissed each other. Keith bites his lips at that memory because it gives way to a deluge. A tsunami of poor decisions made impulsively with no regard for their future.

 

He skips past the memory of that winter morning so many months ago when Shiro had shyly offered to help him with his morning erection. His face heats up remembering the stuttered way in which he’d agreed because... because...

 

Keith stares at the thick foam on top of the whipped eggs, blanking out over a reason. He’s never had a particular reason to do what he’s done. He’s just followed his gut, trusting his instincts to guide him through life. He just never thought...

 

The stove snaps to life as he angrily twists the knob, hurriedly oiling the frying pan as he chides himself. _I shouldn’t have been so stupid! I should have said no!_

 

 _Which time_?

 

 _Every time_!

 

He shouldn’t have pressed his hand against Shiro’s and breathlessly told him, “Tighter.” He shouldn’t have given into the impulse to kiss Shiro when he’d gasped at a tight twist. He shouldn’t have made himself at home in Shiro’s apartment. He shouldn’t have acted like he belonged here when rightfully it was Shiro’s space. He should have kept his guard up! He should have tried harder to protect their bond from this disaster that they'd blindly walked into. 

 

 _I shouldn’t have fallen in love with him_ , Keith realizes as soon as the eggs hit the hot pan. His mood sinks down into his bare feet, causing him to curl his toes as he stares at the eggs.

 

Could he have stopped himself from arriving at this destination if he’d been more cautious? If he hadn’t given into that soft desire to make Shiro happy? 

 

 _That’s been there since I’ve known him_ , Keith listlessly begins stirring the eggs around. As he seasons the food, he remembers a handful of childhood memories where he’d frantically done whatever it took to earn him a “Ta-kun smile.” That feeling still exists in him, to fight whoever and whatever hurts Shiro with his bare hands until his knuckles bled. It's why he scrambles out the door as soon as he gets a "911" message from Shiro - their code for Shiro having or being on the verge of a panic attack and asking Keith to come to him. 

 

 _But that's something I've done for him from the_ _start_...

 

Even before they'd gotten fake married, Keith would rush to Shiro's side and help him through his panic attack. He'd talk to Shiro and calm him down after his nightmare. He'd offer Shiro his shoulder to sleep on when they'd all get together for a movie marathon and Shiro's head would start to bob. He'd known Shiro's preferences for everything better than he knew himself. Sure they've got their own secrets but still... Keith can read Shiro better than anyone else can (and vice versa).

 

He scrubs an embarrassed hand down his face and wonders if maybe he’s been in love with Shiro since they were kids. Keith’s always held Shiro to a different standard because what he’s felt towards the other man has been different. It’s been a different scale of emotions from the start. So maybe... just maybe...

 

“Can’t believe Pidge was right,” Keith mutters to him, scratching some of the eggs off the sides before grouping them in the middle. _I guess I really do have less emotional awareness than a-_

 

A soft cough from the doorway makes him twitch, causing the bottom of the frying pan to grate against the stove. Keith stares at Shiro’s sheepish expression and tries not to melt when he asks, “Sorry. Did I startle you?”

 

“Yeah. How you feeling?”

 

“Better. _Hungry_.” The statement is followed by a low whine that has Shiro covering his stomach with an embarrassed grin. “What’s for breakfast?”

 

“Scrambled eggs and toast. Can you put the toast in and set the table?”

 

Shiro shuffles over immediately. Keith notices that Shiro’s stolen his slippers but doesn’t say anything about it. Keith’s wearing Shiro’s shirt over his boxers. Their cohabitation has broken so many boundaries between them that Keith can’t help but sigh deeply. Shiro thankfully doesn’t say anything as he quickly pops four slices into their toast and slides a plate over for Keith.

 

He doesn’t say anything as he sets the table either or when Keith comes over with the toast and eggs in his hand. No. He waits until Keith’s had a couple of bites before very tentatively broaching the same topic that Keith’s been tangled up in.

 

“About what I said yesterday...” Keith’s throat immediately closes up, forcing him to take a huge swallow to force down the bite of eggs and toast. He turns his wide eyes onto Shiro, who is pushing a large piece of peppered egg around on his plate. Shiro scrunches his nose before taking a deep breath and looking up. The fierce determination burning in his gray eyes steals Keith’s breath away. “I meant every word I said. I love you, Keith. I know we started off on the wrong foot and are already married but I want to do it over. I want to take you out on a proper date.”

 

Keith stares helplessly into Shiro’s hopeful expression and shakes his head, not sure what to say. This isn’t what he’d thought Shiro would do! He’d been ready for disappointment more than anything - than Shiro would wake up and not remember a thing due to his fever. He hadn’t thought... He hadn’t expected...

 

As the silence between them grows, Shiro’s expressions turns more plaintive. He reaches across their small dining table to squeeze Keith’s wrist. “If you need time to think about it then I’ll wait. I’ll wait as long as you need. I just want you to seriously think about dating me.” The gears in his bionic arm whir softly as he tightens his grip momentarily. “A-and if you decide that you don’t want to keep this up then... then we’ll go for the divorce like we talked about.”

 

It’s the way Shiro’s voice cracks in the final sentence that has Keith jumping to his feet to hurriedly reassure Shiro, “I don’t want that!”

 

Unfortunately, his knees bang into the underside of the table and cause everything on top to jump. Shiro pulls back with a surprised, “Whoa!” to avoid being splashed with water and the bottle of Tabasco sauce falls over before lazily rolling to the corner. It’s only quick thinking that has Keith grabbing the bottle before it falls to the floor.

 

He looks up, sprawled halfway across the table, and finds himself blinking into Shiro’s shocked face. He follows Shiro’s hand and notices that he’d stopped Keith’s coffee mug from falling. “Nice catch,” he praises with a breathless laugh.

 

“You too,” Shiro exhales a chuckle before straightening himself. His expression turns wry, “Guess I wasn’t as fast as I thought.”

 

Keith looks at his plate and huffs. Some of the coffee has splashed onto his plate. No matter, he was mostly done anyways. Keith watches the last bit of toast soak up the dark coffee before looking back up at Shiro. He’s leaned back on his chair’s hind legs to make a grab for the washcloth sitting on the windowsill.

 

He bites his bottom lip, ignores his over reaction from less than a minute ago, and says, “I don’t think I need time to think about it.”

 

Silence. Shiro’s chair falls down to all fours with a heavy thud. Keith meets the other man’s startled gaze dead on and tries not to blush. His tongue feels too big for his mouth and everything tastes like sand. This is arguably the scariest conversation, the scariest _decision_ Keith’s ever had to make.

 

But that deep rooted instinctive part of him that’s always led me to calm shores is silent. There’s no doubt, no question, no hesitation. The answer is obvious. That gut feeling that’s cautioned him at every turn and corner quietly nods, reassuring him that this is a good decision and that there’s nothing to fear.

 

_Trust yourself. Trust Shiro. Believe in your bond and everything will be okay._

 

He has to swallow twice before finding enough moisture to properly form enough words to say, “I’m not sure about love but the way I care about you is different. You’re special to me. More special than anyone else. If you’re okay with waiting until I figure out exactly how I feel then...”

 

Shiro’s chest rises and falls with a short but deep breath. “I’ll wait.”

 

A trembling smile pulls Keith’s lips up as an electrical happiness fills him up. He ducks his head, hurriedly pulling his mug into his plate before speed walking over to the sink to dispose of the scraps and clean his plates.

 

He’s scraping the coffee-soaked eggs and toast into the garbage disposal when Shiro sides up next to him. “For the record,” Shiro begins entirely too innocently, “I’m not going to sleep with you on the first date.”

 

Keith frowns, ready to point out that they’ve been sharing a bed for ages before he realizes what Shiro’s talking about. He raises a single eyebrow slowly, “After all the sex we’ve already had?”

 

“That doesn’t count!”

 

“It doesn’t?” Keith holds up his fingers as he counts, “You’ve given me a handjob, I’ve given _you_ a handjob, you’ve rubbed off on me, I’ve put my dick between your thig-”

 

A warm palm presses gently against his mouth to stop him. Keith grins against the rough skin as he catches the pink spreading across Shiro’s cheeks. “But we never went all the way so, it doesn’t _technically_ count.”

 

Keith shakes his head, tugging Shiro’s hand down with full intentions to argue that a hand job still constitutes as “proper” sex but Shiro goes and says, “I want to have a redo of our first time together. Not that it wasn’t nice, which it was! But I’d like... to do it better.”

 

There’s a shyness to the way Shiro says it. A bashful quality which when coupled with the way he scrubs a hand across the back of his neck sparks understanding in Keith. A part of him melts, making him smile and affectionately run his wet fingers through Shiro’s bed hair.

 

 _Maybe I don’t need a lot of time to figure out how I feel after all,_ he thinks as Shiro yelps and dances away, hands protectively cupping his hair. _God, I love this idiot._

“Not the hair!” Shiro whines.

 

“It’s not even styled yet. Stop being such a baby.”

 

_I guess I’ll tell him after our date._

 

 _"_ That's not the point!"

 

Keith grins as Shiro tries to pull away but he's faster. He catches Shiro's face between both hands and feels a laugh bubble up at way Shiro's expression scrunches up in anticipation. But instead of an aggressive hair ruffle, Keith drops a quick peck on Shiro's frown and teases him, "Come on you peacock, we've got to do the laundry." He catches a glimpse of Shiro's dumbfounded expression and feels an odd mix of embarrassed pride. He turns away, rubbing his nose to hide his wobbly smile. 

 

_Or well. I might tell him sooner..._

 

Shiro's in front of him in a flash, red-faced and bright-eyed, "What was that?"

 

"Me telling you we need to do the laundry."

 

But his attempts at deflection fall flat. Shiro puts both hands on Keith's waist to make him stop before more firmly saying, "Keith."

 

Keith looks away from Shiro's hopeful eyes and mumbles, "You know what it was."

 

"I'm not sure." Shiro shuffles forward, pressing their foreheads together. He feels too hot. Worry squirms in the pit of Keith's stomach, making him wonder if Shiro's fever is going up again. "Please. Don't tease me. I need to know."

 

With a small shake of his head, Keith hides his heated cheeks against Shiro's neck before whispering, "I can't say it yet. Give me a few days."

 

Strong arms capture him in a tight hug immediately. His own arms go around Shiro's waist in a heartbeat in relief. He feels like a balloon, ready to float away were it not for the fact that Shiro's anchoring him in place. Keith hides his face against Shiro's shoulder at the analogy and how apt it feels. 

 

They stand at the kitchen door for a long minute hugging each other before Shiro finally breaks away, smiling brightly as he asks, "Want to rock-paper-scissors for who gets to do the laundry?"

 

Snorting, Keith nudges Shiro away, "Sure you want to do that? You tried that last time and  _lost_." 

 

"I'm liking my chances today. Come on, square up!" With a light shrug, Keith makes a fist and puts his hand out. Shiro grins and holds his hand out as well. "1, 2, 3!"

 

Shiro loses with a groan, staring at his palm with a look of utmost betrayal while Keith playfully 'cuts' the 'paper' in half with his 'scissors.' 

 

"Don't forget to separate the whites and colors this time."

 

"Yes, sir," Shiro sighs.

 

\--

 

The soft beep of the AC being turned off has Keith stirring. He rolls over with a dissatisfied grunt, pulling the sheets over his cold toes before he seeks out Shiro's warmth. There's a soft chuckle from behind him before firm,  _warm_ muscles press against his back. Keith hums in satisfaction as he relaxes, wriggling back against his  _boyfriend_. 

 

 _Heh_.  _Boyfriend_. 

 

It's been a couple of weeks since they've decided to go out  _officially_ , but the shine of calling Shiro his boyfriend still hasn't worn off. Keith hides his smile against the pale sheets, pressing more firmly back before pausing when he feels a familiar hardness against his ass. He sniggers, turning his face back to murmur, "Good morning."

 

"Mmhmm," Shiro kisses the tip of his ear before rubbing his morning wood snug against Keith. "Sure is."

 

There's a careless confidence to how Shiro's behaving that makes Keith hide more chuckles into the soft cotton. He can't help but compare to all the previous times they'd been in a similar scenario, only then Shiro would take his time coming closer. Either that or he'd wait for Keith to make the first move. Either way, he'd be shy and cautious rather than be confident of Keith's reaction. 

 

Shiro presses his unshaved cheek against Keith and asks, "What's so funny?" When Keith shakes his head, Shiro rubs their cheeks together before urging Keith to share. "Come on~ Tell me what's so funny!"

 

"You!" Keith breaks, letting himself laugh properly. "I was thinking about the first few times we did this and how  _shy_ you were. Compared to then, you're so confident now."

 

"Of course! I know you love me now."

 

It's the happiness coloring Shiro's voice pink and not the playful nuzzle that follows that fills Keith with bubbles of happiness. He grins, turning his face to bump his nose against Shiro's while softly saying, "That's still a lot of confidence." 

 

Shiro hums back, stealing an off center kiss before letting one hand slide forward. Keith shivers as the light touch skims over his treasure trail. He tries not to squirm when those warm fingers tease the edge of his briefs. "I just want to make you feel good." He presses a wet kiss to the nape of Keith's neck before asking, "Can I?"

 

The same question that Shiro had asked in the start. It's less hesitant now but still puts all the power in Keith's hand. And like that first time, Keith puts his hand on top of Shiro's and guides him to where he wants him. "Yeah," he breathes out, closing his eyes at the touch. 

 

Shiro knows how to touch him now, he knows what Keith likes. In that way, the air of this moment is different from  _before_ but at the same time, Keith finds himself back in the time before that talk they'd had in the kitchen. He remembers the curiosity burning in Shiro's eyes as he'd watched Keith come undone. He closes his eyes remembering the soft tone with which Shiro had asked how he was doing. Keith gasps when Shiro quietly urges him to let go in the same way he had previously. 

 

Trapped between the past and the present, Keith bites down on his lips to muffle himself even as his hips move in cadence to Shiro's hand. He's close to coming when he feels Shiro's hardness pressing against him again. Keith guides a shaky hand down to grasp the hot length and push it between his thighs. Shiro sighs out a word that could be "Baby" or it could be something else. Keith can't say, the buzzing in his ears is too loud. Either way, Shiro follows Keith's lead. 

 

Body temperatures rise along with their impatience. Their kisses grow sloppy and touches increasingly eager. Keith grips Shiro's arm, whining when he feels he's going to come. He comes choking on Shiro's first name, letting the wetness in his eyes seep into the pillow. He's trembling in the wake of his orgasm but has enough presence of mind to squeeze his thighs tighter to make it good for Shiro. Keith arches with satisfaction when Shiro comes, delighted and pleased all the way down to his core at his ability to pull Shiro apart and put him back together again.

 

He pats Shiro's slack arm, waiting for the grip to loosen before turning over to rub his nose into Shiro's collar bone. "We," Shiro begins with a breathless laugh, "gotta stop doing this. We need to change the sheets every time."

 

Morning sex is a hard habit to break though, Keith wants to argue. He likes the way he feels after they've made each other come. He's less prone to angry comments and generally calmer. But changing and cleaning up their sheets as often as they do  _is_ a pain. Sleepily, he mumbles, "Feels nice though."

 

"That's true." Shiro holds him close, stroking his hair and rubbing his back until Keith's a content pile of goo. In fact, Keith's ready to fall back to sleep when Shiro asks, "Do you want to go out today? There's a nice exhibit at the museum today."

 

Keith makes a questioning noise, wanting more details but not willing to use words just yet. Thankfully, Shiro understands. "It's about weaponry used by ancient civilizations. Pidge went with Matt last week and said they had a pretty good show. You don't have any work today right?" Keith nods. "How about after lunch?"

 

"'s a date."

 

Shiro kisses his hair before snuggling closer, thigh making its way between Keith's legs. The way he's settling down says that he's going to take a nap as well. Keith forces himself up on one hand, rooting around between the pillows for his phone while Shiro makes a disgruntled noise. "Let me set an alarm," Keith tells him, hurriedly doing so before dropping the phone and returning to his cozy spot. 

 

 _Now we won't miss our date_ , Keith smiles to himself as Shiro mumbles, "Love you." before closing his eyes and whispering the words back.

**Author's Note:**

> in case anyone wondered : they never get divorced, keith proposes to shiro again (with a nice ring this time lol) and they organize a nice wedding reception and live happily ever after.


End file.
